


Like Father, Like Son

by SMANGST



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, Implied Underage, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMANGST/pseuds/SMANGST
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's fantasy about something he witnessed as a teen leads to unexpected results when Dean catches him pleasuring himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father, Like Son

Sam awakened abruptly, and with a rather pronounced ache in his pants. It came as a shock to him, as the dream he'd been having wouldn't typically be one he would ever find... arousing. In fact, in his waking hours, the dream would normally be perceived to him as disturbing, possibly even scarring. At the moment, however, his penis was telling him otherwise. He wet his lips, glad he had some alone time for the moment, as Dean was off doing... well, he didn't know what. (Or whom.)

He closed his eyes, slipping his hand down under the covers to unfasten his pants. He began to rub himself slowly, the fabric of his boxers strained against the heat of his erection. Nothing wrong with a little fantasizing, right? He kept telling himself that as his mind went back to the dream, that it was only a dream and it didn't mean anything. So if he got off to it, he wasn't a bad person. Right? Right. Of course. 

Even though he knew it hadn't been ONLY a dream. He knew it had foundations of truth; he'd seen some of it with his own eyes and heard it with his own ears, multiple times. He'd just never said anything. Dean would probably deny it if he brought it up anyway. He took a deep breath and let himself go, back into the dream itself. Conscience be damned.

~*~

The smell of alcohol was strong on his breath as he sank onto the bed next to his son. Dean murmured sleepily in protest; he'd been out late the past three nights and was exhausted. He just wanted to rest. "I'm tired..." 

"This won't take long," John murmured, burying his face against Dean's neck. "Take off your pants." 

Dean sighed, squirming from under the covers to do as he was told. He'd hoped he could get away with a simple blowjob; that wouldn't take as long. But apparently his father had other ideas tonight. He glanced across the room at the other bed, where Sam was asleep, thankfully, with his back to them. "Maybe we should go to your room, Dad... Sammy's sleeping."

"Then you'd best be quiet then, huh?" His words were punctuated with a firm grind against the teenager's ass, and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from gasping out loud. 

He knew it wouldn't hurt. They'd been doing this for nearly 3 years now, since Dean was 15. He was used to it. Had come to expect it. And even, if he was being honest with himself, had begun to enjoy it from time to time. He was a good son, and he was willing to do what it took to keep his father happy and his brother safe. 

John fumbled a bit with his own pants, swearing under his breath when he finally got them down. Intoxication wasn't doing him any favors, and he swatted Dean in the back of the head, signaling for him to help out.

Dean flinched, though he should've known the blow was coming; John always had a hard time maintaining his erection when he was drunk. He quickly turned around, wasting no time in wrapping his lips around his father's cock. He closed his eyes, running his tongue around the tip as he sucked, bobbing his head slowly.

It didn't take long; John loved Dean's lips, and he responded well to the oral ministrations, his length swelling and throbbing again. He let Dean fellate him for a few minutes before pushing his head back, whispering gruffly, "That's enough."

That was Dean's cue. He repositioned himself and wet his lips, glancing over once again toward Sam's bed, relieved that he was still sleeping soundly. He let himself relax and closed his eyes, bracing himself.

John gripped Dean's hips and guided himself into him smoothly, but carefully, holding him still as he sheathed himself in his tight heat. He moved with aching slowness; he didn't want to wake Sam either. Drawing a deep breath, he began to thrust, relishing in the sensation.

Dean's eyes fluttered closed at the initial penetration, his long lashes a pretty display against his freckled cheeks. He sighed quietly, rocking his hips back to meet his father's thrusts. It really was a pity they weren't face to face; John would've appreciated Dean's expression when he came into contact with his prostate. A flush flooded his cheeks, and he gave the softest of pleasured groans, his hands clenching in the sheets of the bed. This was the part he hated the most; the fact that his own father could pull such raw pleasure from him. It just seemed so wrong somehow, and it was one of the reasons he hoped Sam never found out.

John could always tell when his son was giving in to him, and it always made him impossibly hard. He tightened his grip on Dean's hips, his breaths growing ragged from pleasure and exertion. His thrusts were increasing in speed and urgency, and he had to pause for a moment to regain his composure. Letting go of one of the teenager's hips, he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of Dean's short hair, pulling his head back. 

The gesture forced Dean's back to arch, and his ass to thrust upward, more receptive to his father's thrusts. Before he could stop it, a soft moan ripped from his lips and he quickly bit the inside of his cheek to quiet himself. As humiliating as this was, he couldn't deny that it felt incredible, and his own erection was dripping precum onto the sheets below him. He knew it wouldn't be long at all until he climaxed, and he continued to thrust himself back onto John's cock, aching for more of it; aching for release.

The sensations were pleasurable, yes. That was to be expected, but Dean's actions, his wantonness and his obvious pleasure were the icing on the proverbial cake. John could feel a heat, a tightening coiling in him, and he let go of Dean's hair so he could hold onto him better. They were both panting raggedly at this point, the soft sounds of sex the only sounds in the room: skin moving against skin, pulses racing, and rapid breathing punctuated by the occasional soft groan from the younger man. It spurred John on, his head spinning as he neared his orgasm.

Dean, his hair released from his father's grip, continued to move back against him, letting his head drop to the mattress below. He was seeing stars, fists clenching tightly in the sheets, and after a very short while, he gave a quiet cry of pleasure into the pillow that was luckily there to muffle his voice. 

John shuddered at the spasming around him, breath catching in his chest. That was what he needed, that extra little boost that sent him plummeting over the edge. He buried himself deeply inside his son as he released, breathing raggedly as his cock twitched and jerked, shooting hot, viscous fluid into him. He stayed that way for several long seconds, hips hitching in tiny aftershocks, before withdrawing from him, heaving a long sigh as he sat up, patting Dean on the ass and standing up.

Dean turned over onto his side enough to look up at his father. His cheeks were still flushed pink, his freckles standing out more than usual, and he gave him a tired smile. "Goodnight, Dad," he murmured, sitting up so he could pull his sleep clothes back on.

"Goodnight, Dean," Was the quiet response, and John left the room.

Sam, across the room, held his breath. He'd awakened when John entered, but had stayed completely still. His heart was racing, and he wanted to be sure his brother was okay, but he didn't dare turn over. It took him hours to fall back to sleep.

~*~

Sam was lost in his fantasy, remembering what he'd heard that night - what he'd heard many other nights as well. His back arched as he pumped his erection, eyes closed. He didn't even hear the door open. 

Dean stepped into the room, saw what was happening, and immediately turned away from him. "Sammy, what the hell!" 

Sam's eyes snapped open and his hand went still. "Jesus... Dean, I... uh... I thought you were going to be gone a lot longer..." Strangely, he felt harder now than he had before he was interrupted. He wet his lips.

"Yeah, well... I'm back, so put that away. I don't want to see that, man."

Sam sat up, staring at the back of Dean's head, his back, his perfect ass. He'd often thought about his brother in a sexual capacity, despite knowing how wrong that was, but had never acted upon it. Now, however, he just couldn't help himself. He cleared his throat. "Dean... turn around."

Dean's head twitched, moving a millimeter in Sam's direction before stopping. He'd almost looked, but stopped himself.

Sam's voice took on a different timbre as he got to his knees. It strengthened, with almost a growling undercurrent that begged to be obeyed. "I said turn around."

A chill ran up Dean's spine at the force behind that command: that's what it was, after all. A command. It reminded him of John, and he felt compelled to obey, if only for that reason. He turned, sucking in a breath at the sight before him. Sam, his little brother, all grown up with a body that rivaled that of a marble statue, stroking himself with a look in his eyes that could only be described as hunger. It made something awaken inside him, and he ran his tongue along his full lower lip, eyes flicking up to meet Sam's. 

"Take off your clothes," came the next command. Sam didn't have to raise his voice. It was all in the delivery, and he'd heard his father give orders enough to mimic the tone perfectly. His hand never stopped moving, still wrapped firmly around his cock. Not that he was in any danger of growing flaccid; this situation was entirely too erotic. 

Dean knew better than to argue. As strange as it was coming from Sam, he knew that tone; Sam meant business. He'd never expected something like this from his brother, but strangely enough he wasn't opposed to it. Even as his mind screamed at him that this was wrong, he felt his hands moving to obey his brother's commands. His clothes dropped to the ground and he gave Sam a look, awaiting his next command like a good soldier.

It was Sam's turn to be surprised. Dean was hardening quickly, and they hadn't even begun yet. Unexpected, but he wasn't about to complain. He motioned for Dean to come closer, pulling him into a kiss that, had either of them still been clothed, would have likely ignited the fabric. Sam's hands wasted no time in roaming on his older brother's body, exploring. Touching. 

Dean's head was swimming. Everything was moving so fast, and it was more than a little overwhelming. To be honest, he'd never really thought of Sam in this light, but now, with his mouth, his tongue, and his hands moving the way they were moving, he wondered why that was. It felt good... no, it felt amazing, and that voice of reason in his mind had quieted down at the first touch of Sam's lips. Hell, maybe it had died of overstimulation. Right now, the only thing he knew was Sam Winchester, and it didn't matter that he was his brother. Not when it felt like this. His hands had begun roaming as well, fingers moving over the well-formed muscles of his brother's body. It felt natural.

Sam was certain he wouldn't be able to keep this up for too long - it was just too hot, and his erection was already throbbing. He'd seen the look on Dean's face when he'd first turned around and their eyes had locked. It had been almost enough to make him come just then, but he'd managed to hold it off. Dragging Dean's bottom lip through his teeth, he broke their kiss and with a soft grunt, pushed his older brother down onto the bed and moved over him, lowering a hand to palm his steadily-growing erection. 

Dean's eyes closed for a moment and a groan escaped his lips. He hadn't been this turned on in a long time, and he was eager to see where Sam planned on taking it, though every ounce of him already sort of had an idea. He was already making himself accessible to his brother, his legs subtly moving apart in invitation. 

Sam was kissing his chest now, his shoulder, his neck. He breathed against his ear softly, "How long has it been since you've done this?" The question was punctuated by sharp teeth on his earlobe, followed by a soft tongue that made Dean's dick throb.

Dean sucked in a breath before answering, "Long time. But it's like riding a bike... Just go slow, and I'll be fine."

Sam didn't need any more encouragement than that. He grabbed the small bottle of lotion he'd been using before when he'd been masturbating, and squirted a bit of the contents into his hand, stroking himself with it to lubricate his erection. The sound Dean made when he pressed the head up against his entrance was almost enough to drive him to orgasm, and he had to take a deep breath and calm himself before pressing onward and inward. He couldn't believe how tight Dean was... it was like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Dean gasped at the initial intrusion. Sam was... big. He took a deep breath and forced his body to relax, knowing that it would facilitate the process. Gritting his teeth, he leaned his head back, drawing slow, deep breaths. "...God, Sammy..."

Sam pressed forward slowly until he was completely buried inside his older brother, shuddering at the sensation. He wanted so badly to just fuck him raw, but he wanted Dean to enjoy it too, so he'd take it slowly. He paid close attention to Dean's breathing, listening for cues, and when it seemed like he was beginning to relax, he withdrew from him and pressed smoothly back in. 

The timing was perfect, and Dean saw stars. That first thrust was always the best, and Sam had hit his prostate dead-on. He gave a quiet groan, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the sheer warmth of it all. And Sam was going so slowly; it was a completely different experience with him than it had been with John, and he was enjoying the hell out of it. It wasn't long before he had both arms wrapped around his younger brother, his lower body moving in tandem with him to better receive his thrusts.

Sam was aware of how this was affecting Dean, and it was driving him wild. He always knew Dean had enjoyed the encounters with John, even if only on the surface. After all, stimulation was stimulation, and it hadn't exactly been non-consensual. But this seemed to be something different altogether. Dean was acting differently with him, almost as though he craved it. Well, who was Sam to deny him anything after all Dean had done for him through the years? Spurred on by his reactions, he lifted one of Dean's legs and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer and in doing so, forcing himself deeper.

Dean rewarded him with a ragged groan, writhing beneath him. His head was tilted back, and his eyes were closed, and the sounds escaping his lips were ones of pure pleasure. "S..Sammy..." His grip around Sam's shoulders tightened, nails biting into flesh. The new closeness changed Sam's angle of entry slightly, and his prostate was now under constant assault. It was driving him mad.

Sam slid one hand between them to stroke his brother's cock, which was slick by now with precum. He knew he would climax soon, and could tell it wouldn't be very long before Dean did either. He bowed his head, concentrating on the task at hand, so to speak, and reveling in the various sensations. Dean's noises, in combination with the tightness of his ass, were particularly driving him wild. His hips were pistoning almost of their own accord now, his breaths coming in sharp gasps. "..almost..." He murmured, lifting his head again to look at Dean.

Dean's head was still thrown back, his face contorted in pleasure. His hips were hitching hungrily toward Sam's thrusts, and he gave a shaky gasp, raising his head to lock eyes with his brother. "C.. come in me, Sammy..." 

Sam could feel something inside him explode at those words. He knew he'd been close, but it seemed as though something tightly coiled suddenly burst and came pouring forth from him. He gave a groan of pleasure, his orgasm feeling almost overwhelming to him as he spilled into Dean, hips hitching forward in aftershock spasms until he was completely empty. "..oh... God..." He sighed, watching Dean through half-lidded eyes.

Everything felt so damn good, and the sudden feeling of being filled with Sam's hot cum proved to be too much for him, his back arching as his orgasm gripped him as well. He let out a ragged cry as his cock twitched and throbbed and erupted in thick ropes of sticky semen that painted his and Sam's stomachs. "...S..Sammy..." he murmured, struggling to regain full use of his words.

"...yeah..." Was the shaky response from Sam. He withdrew from his brother and flopped down onto the bed next to him, catching his breath. 

For several long minutes, the only sounds in the room were their heartbeats and breathing returning to normal. Both of them lay there quietly, staring up at the ceiling. Dean was the first to break the silence. "...so where the hell did that come from?"

"I guess I do owe you an explanation."

"You think?"

"I guess the apple just doesn't fall that far from the tree... you know?" Sam looked at Dean, giving him a faint smile. 

Dean's cheeks had turned pink. "You... knew about that? About.. about me and Dad?"

Sam nodded, wetting his lips. "...I never mentioned it before because I knew you didn't want me to know about it. I know you both tried to keep it from me, so..." He lay back again, redirecting his attention to the ceiling once more. "It's just something I wanted to try, Dean. Don't worry about it... we don't have to do it again."

"...oh, we're doing it again." Dean turned onto his side to face Sam. "At least if I have any say-so."

"...but I thought... with Dad, you didn't really like it." Sam turned onto his side too, a perplexed look on his face.

"You're hardly Dad."

"That's for damn sure." He wasn't so sure, though. After all... like father, like son.


End file.
